Fail
by FieryFiction
Summary: Yeah weird title... Anyways None of it was real. Nothing Alfred had been feeling for years had been reciprocated. How does our favorite American find out. By proposing. One-sided USUK and Human names. Crappy story.
1. Chapter 1

**Fiery: I need to learn to stop starting new fics...**

**Summary: None of it was real. Nothing Alfred had been feeling for years had been reciprocated. How does our favorite American find out. By proposing. One-sided USUK and Human names.**

**Fiery: Copyrights- Story© Me, Characters© Hidekaz Himaruya**

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><p>CH 1<p>

Alfred stood waiting for an answer. His grey-sky eyes shimmering with hope and desperation. A weak, worried smile tugged at his lips, but only one side as if it hope didn't have the strength to help him grin with the usual cockiness that the world power typically possessed. Alfred sat, kneeling and holding up the small box with a gold band in it.

The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland stared down on him, his slim fingers still on the brass doorknob that he had opened moments ago. Emerald green eyes wide in surprise with something America couldn't identify shining in them. His messy hair was just messy enough but not so much to be called crazy or "sex hair." Arthur Kirkland, perfection in a human body. Well not entirely human, but you get the point.

As Alfred examined the British nation his expression changed to one of loving, everything seemed to soften on his face. The smiled changed and pulled at both corners of his lips. His eye lid sunk a bit and glasses, known as Texas, slid a bit down the bridge of the American's nose. Somewhere in the silence wind chimes blew. It seemed perfect. Everything was perfect just as the younger nation had planned. The sun shone in through the windows behind the Brit to give him an angelic light. Then all of a sudden the stillness and perfection was shattered with one scoffing word. "No."

The wind chimes fell silent and a cloud passed over the sun. Alfred's face fell to one of neutral, with eyes shining with begging and curiosity. He didn't understand. Ever since World War II the pair of blond nations had been together. America had loved his former caretaker with all his heart and soul. He even gave his virginity to the British nation. Everything the younger nation had done for years had been for Arthur. What did he mean "No?" Alfred felt so lost, as if he was sinking lower and lower into the porch as the other nation stared down at him.

"This as been a great few years and all, but you know I was just in it for the political and economical gain," Arthur sighed, running the fingers that had once been on that door knob through his sandy hair. "You understand don't you? With the economy down and all it's best if we try doing things on our own. Its not like it was every really personal anyways."

Right. Not personal. America felt his heart being grabbed by two hands and being tugged in separate directions. Through all the pain, he smiled his usual cocky smile and laugh his usual cocky laugh. "Right. Well I guess I'd better be going then." Scratching the back of his wheat blond hair Alfred closed the box and placed it back in his pocket. The American simply stood up and started walking away.

"You know America, if you wanted to," Arthur paused, "you know one more time. I wouldn't say no. You look quite dashing in that suit."

Alfred felt his jaw clench and his heart get stuffed through a shredder and fed to the sharks. That's all it had been about to him? Sex and money? America felt himself being ripped apart on the inside as he turned back around, grinning madly. "Nah. My boss doesn't even know I'm gone. I should get back before he notices. I'll be seein' ya Britain," the blue eyed nation replied the only thing showing his hurt was his slightly stooped stature and broken eyes. Before anything else could be said Alfred rushed to his car and drove away.

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><p><strong>AN Time!**

**Fiery: God I feel awful after writing this. I was thinking of a fic I read while I sat in the car for three hours and this came to life. There are short chapters for a short story.**

**Arthur: ... I feel like an ass now.**

**Al: This isn't real right? I mean if I really proposed you wouldn't do that right Arthur?**

**Arthur: Never *hugs Al***

**Al: *closes eyes contently and a blissful smiled spreads it's way across his face***

**Fiery: Yeah so anyways if I'm not updating quickly it's because: **

**A. I'm lazy.**

**B. I'm on my trip to Washington D.C. where I'll have no computer or anything I can write on at all.**

**C. I'm too busy screwing around on Transformice with Iggy and my friends.**

**D. I"m too busy screwing around on my rp site( _h t t p : / / d s h e t a l i a n s . p r o b o a r d s . c o m /_ ).**

**E. I'm working on my other fics.**

**or F. I have Writer's Block.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Fiery: I can't believe I'm finally doing a fic like this I've been trying to forever .**

**Summary: None of it was real. Nothing Alfred had been feeling for years had been reciprocated. How does our favorite American find out. By proposing. One-sided USUK and Human names.  
><strong>

**Fiery: Copyrights- Story© Me, Characters© Hidekaz Himaruya**

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><p>CH2<p>

Arthur stood in his doorway. His boss didn't even... Oh... Alfred had really... Oh! The green eyed nation brought his hand up to his cheek. How could he be such an ass? Never had it once occurred to him that Alfred actually had feelings for him. Sure they had sex, but had America been thinking it was out of love? Of course he did. The boy lives and breathes romance movies. There probably isn't one movie made in his country without a love interest.

The realization he had just made sunk like a stone, fluttering in his heart and his gut as it sunk to sit at the base of each and leave him feeling as if he were sinking lower and lower in himself. Alfred probably loved him with all his heart and soul, and when he was showing all of it, Arthur had practically kicked him in the face and laughed. The hand slid from his cheek to over his mouth. Alfred had been fine though, he still wore that cocky smile and laughed his damn "I'm-better-then-all-of-you-and-happier-see?" laugh. He was fine right? Knowing America, probably not.

How the hell could Arthur fix this? He had finally been able to be in the same room with his now ex without screwing it up and starting an argument. And poor Alfred was probably dying on the inside. It was all that fucking suit's fault. Britain couldn't help it that America look sexy in the black outfit.

Maybe he should call him and at least apologize for his behavior. England pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed the American. It was a few seconds before a half hearted voice answered.

"Hey Britain," the voice was most likely accompanied by a weak smile.

Britain. Alfred rarely called him that. He must be feeling rather heart broken. Arthur took a deep breath. "Alfred I'm sorry I-"

"Don't be. I get it. Everything was political not emotional," Alfred sounded like he was choking.

"I only said those things because..." Britain paused, "Because I thought your boss was making you say it." Arthur gritted his teeth and put his hand in a fist onto his forehead. What was he saying?

"Really?" America asked. The hope in his voice was so painful to hear. Guilt balled its way in England's throat and blocked it. He swallowed in an attempt to rid himself of it, but to no avail.

"Yes," Arthur forced himself to say. Why was he doing this? It would just come and bite him in the ass later.

"So does that mean...?" Alfred asked.

"Yes," Britain sighed. Though he couldn't see him Arthur knew he was smiling the biggest smile on Earth and it stung like a nest's worth of wasps.

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><p><strong>AN Time!**

**Fiery: YAYS I CAN FINALLY WRITE A STORY LIKE THIS 8D**

**Al: H-how could you Fiery this is cruel *sniffle***

**Fiery: Nuuuuuu *glomps Al* It's not all a lie he loves you. He really does! You know the Special Relationship is seen as one-sided from the United Kingdom. My Iggy read it in an article somewhere so if it's ever one-sided it should actually be that way...**

**Arthur: *sputters while blushing bright red* No it's not!**

**Al: Awww Iggy loves me *grins and hugs Arthur***

**Fiery: Al... Can't... Breath *reaches feebly then notices something and watches entranced***

**Arthur: *pulls back and shoves other two to the ground then half lidded eyes become wide and face becomes flushed* Shit you're there...**

**Fiery: *blushing and grinning from ear to ear and climbs off of Alfred* Ignore me.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Fiery: Copyrights- Story© Me, Characters© Hidekaz Himauya**

**Summary: None of it was real. Nothing Alfred had been feeling for years had been reciprocated. How does our favorite American find out? By proposing. One-sided USUK and Human names.**

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><p>CH3<p>

Alfred had returned to Arthur house with a large smile and a hopeful gleam shimmering in his bright eyes. "So are we really going to get married?" his voice was still oddly high for someone his size, though it wasn't childishly high... most the time.

"Yes," Arthur replied with his eyes closed and a force smile. The Brit was overjoyed that Americans were horrid at reading the atmosphere. He probably believed it was of real joy. The guilt Britain was feeling seemed to be drowning him.

The smile the younger nation had been wearing turned warm and his eye lid slid a bit lower. He blinked and the smile grew a bit wider, more prominently on one side than the other. "I love you Arthur, so much," Alfred breathed, pulling the Brit into a loving embrace.

The other nation felt his heart be stabbed. Could he really be doing this? If Alfred ever found out, God only knew what the sorrow could do to him. "I love you too, git," Arthur muttered through clenched teeth, wrapping his arms loosely around America's waist.

America leaned forward, a bit nervously and gave Britain a chaste kiss. Arthur kissed back in the time when their lips were together. It felt dull and lifeless as usual. Love wasn't there, and he wondered if Alfred could feel the hollowness that quick contact had for the Brit.

"Lets not stand here and freeze then, get inside," England smiled. As he was going in the house Alfred grabbed his hand, the warm, loving expression still on his face. Arthur smiled back at him. America looked happier then the Brit had ever seen him. It made Britain feel like he was going to regret this more then anything. Even more then losing the Hundred Years War.

After that their day went on as it normally would if Alfred had come to visit, they talked, watched Tv, ate dinner, and had the typical arguments over England's food being edible. Arthur, forgetting about the situation with the typical flow of their nights had brought up having sex, but the hurt and fear that flashed in America's eyes made him revoke it immediately and remember how much he probably hurt and might hurt his ex colony.

As they lay in bed, for the first time in ages Alfred fell asleep first. After about half an hour of laying there with the other nation Britain slowly got out of bed and went downstairs. He had to call someone. He had to talk to someone, anyone. The first person he could think of was Francis. As soon as his phone was unlocked Arthur was calling the frog.

"Bonjour," the voice said, even over the line it seemed to be trying to seduce the English nation.

"Francis, I need to talk to you," Arthur rushed.

"Francis? You're calling me Francis? Why so informal? Finally fall for my charms? Found a new infatuation with moi?" the French voice smirked.

"Belt up Frog, it's America. He... He proposed and I completely crushed him. I felt bad so I called him and then accepted. I said I said no because I thought it was coming from his boss. And... He just seems so happy. What am I going to do?" the Englishman asked.

"Tell 'im," France sighed. "You have to tell him."

"He'll hate me forever. I don't love him, but I.. I need him Francis. I'm addicted to him. I... I can't loose him again," Britain hung his head, hand keeping it from drooping too low.

"It is you possessive nature mon ami. You may not love him, but you have something and as we all learned from the Independence War you hate to loose it," the voice chided. "You have to let him go as you did before. You could not fight that war forever as you cannot lie to him forever."

"When the fuck did you become all knowing you arse. That's the most shitty advice ever," Arthur scowled.

"You called me. Now if you don't mind I'm looking for a guest to entertain toni-Aha! I think I found her. Parlez-vous plus tard mon ami toujours ennuyant," and with that the French bastard hung up.

"Well that didn't help at all. Maybe I should call that bloke north of America. What's his name again? Oh yes Candya," Britain sighed and searched for him in his contacts. The name "Canada" was the closest thing so Arthur tried that one.

"He-hello?" the tentative voice answered quickly.

"Greetings er..." The Brit started, but he could never remember the fellow's name for the life of him. "Marcus?"

"It's Matthew, but nice try," a small sigh sounded form the other end of the call.

"Er... right... Anyways. I'm having a problem. You know that America fellow that lives south of you?" England asked.

"Yes. He is my brother I think I would know him," Methane scoffed.

"Oh so you're close?" Arthur asked. For some reason the bloke seemed so familiar, but he couldn't remember why for the life of him.

"Yes Arthur, you did raise us both..." He sighed in a voice so quiet that it was getting harder and harder for the Englishman to hear.

"I... I did?" England asked incredulously.

"Yes," Maddie sighed. "So what's your trouble with Al?"

"Oh yes him. You see, I kinda blew him off when he proposed and asked for sex afterwards then called him back and lied about how I thought it was all coming from his boss and, you might find this funny, I said yes to marrying him and he's here now. I hurt him already, but if he find's I'm lying about loving him he might... Well I don't know what he might do, but it'll crush him," the Brit explained again.

"It won't just crush him it'll destroy him Arthur. Why would you do that? You have to tell him before he gets hurt," Marrie chided.

"I can't. Like I said, it'll crush him," Britain bit his thumb.

"You have to tell him," was all that was said. "Eh? Hockey's on. I hope you don't mind me leaving now Arthur. I know it's late there, you should probably get some rest. Remember to tell him and soon."

"I can't tell him!" Arthur yelped, but the line cut off. Maybell had hung up on him. Arthur sighed dejectedly then went up to bed. Well telling him was a horrid idea and he couldn't lie his whole life. Maybe some brilliant idea would come to him in his dreams. The Brit walked dejectedly up the stairs and got back into bed with the American.

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><p><strong>AN Time!**

**Fiery: It's summer for me so all my fics will be updating a lot faster now. Have fun.**

**Mattie: Methane... Maddie... Marrie... Maybell? I'M CANADA! But for family I'm Matthew and Al I'm Mattie, but that's beside the point. The point is-**

**Al: *walks up* What we talkin' bout?**

**Arthur: *follows America* Is Fiery talking to herself again?**

**Fiery: *grins* yup.**

**Mattie: Maple...**


	4. Chapter 4

**Fiery: Copyrights- Story© Me, Characters ©Hidekaz Himaruya**

**Summary: None of it was real. Nothing Alfred had been feeling for years had been reciprocated. How does our favorite American find out. By proposing.**

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><p>CH4<p>

Arthur awoke to find Alfred snuggling against him. It was rather pathetic to see sch a large person trying to be so small. Dull green eyes stayed on the peaceful, sleeping face. All the muscles relaxed, mouth slightly ajar. Suddenly the face jumped to life with a spastic twitch originating around the bridge of the other nation's nose. America's eyes fluttered open with nothing but contentment and innocence swimming in the grey waters that shone with the colors of the sky. It hurt to see the smile, warm and loving, spread it's way across his face.

"Morning," the taller muttered, leaning up and placing a gentle kiss on the slightly upturned nose of the shorter.

A forced smile spread it's way across the Englishman's face. Guilt flashed through the green pools as the larger approached like a small fish creating nothing but a quick, quiet slash of water and ripples. The ripples worked their way out to the other. Where most would have sensed it's presence, the younger nation did not feel a thing, but the false warmth of the smile that matched his.

"Good morning," Arthur sighed. He kissed the other on the forehead then pulled out of the loose hug that had made it's way around his waist during the middle of the night. The sheets were tugged back form the leaner form as he sat on the edge of the bed. "I'll go make some breakfast," the British accent muttered as he stood.

"Uh! Um! That's okay! I'll just have coffee!"Alfred called after him.

Arthur sighed. Why did no one, even Alfred, the git, like his food. The boy was head over heels in love with him and even he who ate everything wouldn't eat his cooking. If Alfred really loved him he would eat it right? England did love cooking after all. "Don't you like my cooking?" the Briton asked, a deflated look dawning his face as he looked over his shoulder to see America who was pulling his head back into the cave that was Arthur's room.

The younger nation bit his lip with a slightly worried expression. With his eyebrows dipped in at the slightest he grinned. "Nah, I'm just not hungry."

A sly smirk started crawling it's way across Britain's face which he quickly extinguished with a worried frown. "Are you sick love?" he asked, throwing in the love to sell it.

"I'm fine, just-" he stopped when a hand placed itself on his forehead. The American flushed a bit. "Arthur I'm fine," Alfred pouted.

"You feel a little warm," the British accent sounded.

"I'm fiiiiiiiine," Alfred whined, crossing his arms and adorning a rather childish expression.

"But what else could explain your... oh... You hate my cooking don't you?" the Englishman's expression fell.

"N-no! I-I love you're cooking!" America yelped.

"I knew it. You hate my cooking..." Arthur slumped down the hall.

"No! Arthur no! I-I don't-" the young blond started.

"Alfred please don't lie to me. I know you hate it," Arthur looked like a kicked puppy as he stared at the blue eyed nation.

Alfred bit his lip. "F-fine. Britain I don't like you're cooking."

"I knew it! You don't like me or my cooking!" the green eyed nation cried.

"N-no Arthur I love you more than anything! Please I'm sorry!" Alfred grabbed the Brit's hand and held it to his chest.

"So you'll eat my cooking?" Arthur asked, perking up. Yays he might- wait did he just think yays? Dammit that git was rubbing off on him.

"Please Arthur anything but that. Then I really will be sick," America wore a lopsided frown as he spoke, brows matching it's shape, and one eye slightly squinted.

"Oh..." England frowned. Then a sinful idea popped into his head. _Anything_. "Anything?" he asked.

"Yes," Alfred nodded, a slightly worried expression dawning his face at the same time as a joyful one at the realization that he wouldn't have to eat the mangled things Britain called his cuisine.

This would get interesting. Maybe Arthur could wait just a little longer before he told the American before him the truth. What harm could it do if he was already head-over-heels in love then he would hurt just the same as telling him later on, besides it would give him time to think. "Then wait for me in the bedroom. I want to try something." A sadistic grin slid across his face and Britain went into the kitchen to fetch some supplies.

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><p><strong>AN Time!**

**Fiery: ... If anyone can guess what he's fetching I'll give you a cookie... You don get any more hints.**

**Al: *goes into bedroom like a good boy***

**Fiery: *slunks in after and hides in closet with video camera***

**Arthur: *returns wearing an expression of lust and hiding hands behind his back* Turn around...**

**Al: *does as told***


	5. Chapter 5

**Fiery: Copyrights- Story© Me, Characters© Hidekaz Himaruya.**

**Summary: None of it was real. Nothing Alfred had been feeling for years had been reciprocated. How does our favorite American find out. By proposing.**

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><p>CH5<p>

Alfred and Arthur continued little dances like this. They always ended up the same way, Britain trying some kinky, twisted fetish. The Brit was enjoying himself so much that when that fateful day had finally arrived he hadn't even gotten an idea of how to break it to the American.

How could he have been so foolish? It all seemed to go by so fast. In a few moments he would be at the alter with his American fiance. The suit he was adorned in was composed of a white jacket and black pants accompanied by a minty green shirt and black shoes.

The nation paced back and forth in the room. Francis who was his Best Man wore an immense frown. "Why didn't you tell 'im?" the man asked.

"I couldn't just outright say it. It would be quite rude if I did," Britain scowled.

France stood from the chair he was patiently watching the other nation from. England was too busy to notice the closing distance. By the time he looked up from the tracks he was wearing into the plush, white carpet it was too late. A loud slap echoed through the room. The Englishman froze, looking at the Frenchman. "So you'll marry 'im and then leave 'im or do you plan to leave 'im at the alter?"

"I... I don't... I won't... I'm not... I... I just don't know," Arthur sighed, sitting in a chair that rested against the wall. His face was tinged with red on his cheek from where the hand landed and he looked utterly, horribly lost.

France's narrowed eyes relaxed and turned to normal. The frown upon the French man's face relaxed and became a somber smile. The fists clenched at his side fell. "He's loved you for a long time, and if you don't really feel the same, he deserves to know."

"I get it Francis. I get it," Arthur muttered. "He's loved me a good while. But I still don't have the heart to tell him."

"Do you know how long he's loved you?" Francis ignored the quiet murmuring of the British man before him. "He has loved you since he was old enough to comprehend love in that form."

Arthur looked up from his hands which were resting upon his bent knees. "What?" his voice shook slightly as he asked. Oh god the guilt, he was sailing the seas of them and the crashing waves were pooling more and more of the accursed feeling into the heart of his ship. If he told Alfred his ship would sink and he would be drowning in the grey purple and green sea that the torturous feeling came from. Green, anguished eyes looked into deep blue ones. "I can't tell him," he persisted.

"Have it your way," Francis sighed.

The moment the words were uttered Martha popped his head in. "You ready?" his quiet voice asked. The violet eyed teen in the doorway stared at the other two, but Arthur didn't seem to hear.

"Non, he still refuses to tell Amerique the truth," the French nation scowled. He brushed some dust off of his blue tuxedo.

"Arthur..." Candy started but the man dressed in pastel violet didn't get much farther as Arthur grabbed a black top hat with a matching mint green band and strode out to door.

The hat was placed upon his head and Britain waited in the shadows for when he would walk out. Of course he had to play the girl in the wedding. The bloody prat had to throw away the Briton's pride.

Matthew and Francis walked out and took their places. Being nations there was no father walking Arthur down the aisle. As he strode out, head up and smirk adorning his face the nation caught a glance of Alfred looking at him. That damn loving expression was etched upon his features. The Guilt was dragging England's high and mighty act under ground. Maybe he should tell America.

But while wearing that sexy black suit with a bright splash of blue being his shirt, he looked absolutely delicious and Arthur remembered the whole reason that he wasn't telling him the truth. The Brit licked his lips. He could not wait until this whole ceremony deal was over. When England was at Alfred's side the smile on his face made his heart ache. He couldn't do this. That smile made him ache with a pooling guilt so deep it could go to the center of the Earth. But the Briton was unable to say anything before the sermon started.

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><p>"Speak now or forever hold your peace." was uttered by the priest.<p>

Here it was was Arthur's chance. The British man opened his mouth to speak but Francis and Matthew simultaneously said "I object!"

They both went over to the Briton and each rested a hand on one of his shoulders. Francis turned and face everyone who attended. "This man does not love the other. He told me and Canada on day one."

The room went cold. The Brit heard a quiet whisper. "Arthur?" It came. The voice was so broken and so hurt. The immense pain swelling from his name ran through England's heart like a knife. The British nation looked at the American and saw the desperation and hurt on the other's face. The grey-sky eyes were wide and panicked. His brows were raised and dipping in the center. His mouth was flat and unexpressive, the loving look from earlier was completely erased from the teen before him. "I... It's not true right? This is just one of Francis's sick jokes... right?" he sounded so lost, so helpless, so desperate. He looked like he was clinging to hope by the thinnest strand in the world and England had the thickest resting right next to the American's. America's hand was extended for his lover to take hold of and help him get over.

"No," the word came out barely a whisper. Britain's face was straight, calm, and relaxed. A huge weight was taken off of his shoulder, but the hurt from the guilt was crashing down and putting more pressure on until Arthur felt he was getting buried in six feet deep in it.

Devastation crashed over Alfred. His face became the same yet more etched, more stretched, more expressive over all. America's mouth flopped uselessly, trying to create words. After a few seconds a strangled "Why?" came forth. Tears were building up behind the dams in the younger nation's eyes, turning them red with the strain of holding them back.

Might as well be honest. It's not like all the nations didn't already hate him anyways. "You were a good shag," England shrugged, his voice was hollow.

The tears didn't fall, but the cocky proud failure that Alfred called his posture fell. His whole body sagged and his fringe fell before hie eyes. "Oh."

Arthur was pretty sure everyone watched intently as he dropped America's heart and watched the porcelain shatter, and then turn away from the poor man who's head it fell upon with a nonchalant shrug.

Britain was going to gather up his stuff and leave, but as he walked past the American the happy laugh echoed around the room. The cocky, self righteous laugh. Alfred's laugh.

"You sure had me fooled. You guys in England sure are good actors aren't you?" When Arthur turned with a shocked expression he found the same old goofy, cocky mask that Alfred wore everywhere. "I guess the wedding's called off, and since Snooze-ville isn't really a place I want to hang out I think I'm gonna go home. See ya Arthur, hope I didn't waste too much of your time." And with that America waved good bye, his posture was still broken as he retreated to the room in which he was keeping his things.

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><p><strong>AN Time!**

**Fiery: Blech yeah I planned on having this be a really short story but now idk how long I'm going to keep it alive in my attic. I say that because I need to work on some of my other fics. There was one I posted when I first joined Fanfiction that I haven't EVER updated... yeah... I gotta go work on that one. I also have four other stories that I have to work on... yeah I take on too many stories at once and then start focusing on the one I like best. I'm really surprised I'm not working on my horror...**

**MEANWHILE**

**Al: *crying* It's all fake right? This story.**

**Arthur: *hugs* Yes. None of this could ever be real *presses kiss to forehead***

**Al: *hugs back, still crying***

**Fiery: And I'm going to advertise again. I have an rp site that I'm on a lot. it's _h t t p : / / d s h e t a l i a n s . p r o b o a r d s . c o m / _were doing an activation check so some spots might be opened... still have a lot of avalible countries cause apparently I'm really not that popular! Yays!  
><strong>


	6. Chapter 6

Fiery: Copyrights- Story© Me, Characters© Hidekaz Himaruya

Summary: None of it was real. Nothing Alfred had been feeling for years had been reciprocated. How does our favorite American find out. By proposing. One-sided USUK and Human names.

* * *

><p>Chapter 6<p>

A week later Arthur woke up to an empty bed and frowned. He looked around then remembered why is was so cold. He let out a sigh. It was winter and the Brit kind of missed having the warmth of America beside him. The other would normally be cuddled up against him out of his hatred of the cold. England smiled to himself as he remembered Alfred's foolishness.

The British nation climbed out of bed, still finding it odd that he wasn't hugged from behind and kissed gently on the side of his neck. Still Arthur reached to removed the arms only to sigh when he found them missing. The Brit got up and walked into the kitchen to make his tea, he grabbed the supplies for it and the supplies for coffee. Britain blinked down at the coffee grounds in his hand. He let out a scoffing breath. He quickly makes his tea after stowing the coffee in the cupboard above a coffee maker that had made it's home on his counter for the longest time it seemed.

Arthur sat and sipped in silence, finding it odd to not be having a conversation or have the TV turned on to find Doctor Who, Monty Python, or Merlin DVDs still playing the menu screen from the night before. The Brit sighed once more. He went upstairs to get dressed, figuring he might as well go shopping.

The Englishman walked out of his house once done and slipped into his car. He drove out to the grocery store not to far down the way in his small British town nestled on the countryside. Arthur wandered aimlessly down the aisles until he saw a box of chocolates.

He smiled warmly to himself. _America would love it if I_- he cut his thoughts off. Britain's hands started to shake as he stared down at the chocolates. His eyes grew wide. Did he really... love Alfred? England sure as hell missed him dearly. A wave of regret and sorrow washed over him. He gave the little box a squeeze and ran to the checkout counter.

The Englishman grabbed the box the moment he paid and ran to his car. Arthur whipped out his phone and dialed the airport, telling them to have his privet jet ready. As soon as his car was parked the gentleman practically jumped form his car and took off with the chocolates in hand. He ran and jumped onto the sleek silver, blue, and red plane after jumping the fence, not wanting to waste time have to navigate around the airport.

It took off shortly and Arthur slammed his head against the window. What had he done? Something stupid. The Brit had let go of the one thing he loved most, needed most. He had left America so many times when he was younger. Surely if Arthur leaving him wouldn't have made him give up. Right? The Briton imagined Alfred stared neutrally at him and just "blowing him off" as Alfred would have put it. Worry seeped through England the entire ride as possibility after possibility ran through his mind. As soon as the plane landed Arthur ran out and through the airport. He called a cab as he ran.

Arthur had made it through the airport without much trouble and waited on the curb for the taxi for what seemed like an eternity. When he was about to give up and run for it the cab pulled up. He leapt in and hurriedly told the cab driver the address, shifting uncomfortably the entire way. When they arrived Arthur composed himself and walked to Alfred's door, telling the driver to bill the British Embassy and send his apologies.

The Englishman took a deep breath as he stood at the door and lifted his hand to knock, feeling sick to his stomach. What if Alfred didn't believe him or didn't take him back? He threw those thoughts to the wind, letting them drift and float away. America loved him; he would always love him as he had said months before. His knuckles wrapped against the red stained oak grain three times and then the hand lowered.

Alfred opened the door, surprise in his wide sky-grey eyes. Before he could say anything and the Briton could think Arthur had surged forward and hugged him tightly. England buried his head in the other's chest, inhaling his scent and smiling slightly. America stare down at him with wide eyes, tears pricking the corners of them. "Wha-what are you doing here?" he asked. His usually strong, sure voice shivering slightly.

"I'm sorry Alfred! I'm sorry! I was stupid! I felt guilty at first because at the time I... I didn't love you and I kept feeling that guilt and not realizing what lied beneath it. Al, I love you... Pleas, I know you probably don't care for me anymore, but I... I was wondering if you'd like to-" Britain spilled out, tears welling in his heart. His chest felt like it was swelling and constricting at the same time with hope and worry. It was etched obviously upon his face with large, eyebrows dipping slightly and teeth clenched behind frowning, slightly dried lips. His Green eyes were wide as he stared at America who and cut him off with a tight, almost crushing hug.

The American let out a half laugh half sob. "I love you too." He pulled back and smiled at the Briton with tears running down his face, counteracted with the widest, happiest, warmest, most loving smile the planet had to offer. "I'll always love you." One of the younger nation's hands slid down Arthur's arm and interlaced it's fingers with the Brit's own. The other sat on his shoulder.

Arthur smiled back and let out a bit of a chuckle. A warm sheen had entered his eyes as a slight smile spread across his lips. The Englishman's jaw relaxed though his eyebrows still frowned a bit, though not with worry, with relief. Alfred leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his slightly upturned nose. The grey clouds that had been swirling in the sky cleared, both in the American's eyes and in the land above them. He pulled back and England threw his arms around America's neck, pressing and strong kiss to the other's lips. America kissed back and when they pulled back. They let out a chuckle simultaneously. Their fingers interlaced and they walked inside wordlessly. The box of chocolates left outside.

Arthur remembered it later and brought it inside. Alfred just smiled at him lovingly and gave him a kiss and he put them in the fridge, promising to have them later.

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><p>AN Time!

Fiery: *Smiles* I liked writing this chapter. Sorry it sucks though. I have writers block and I had two hours of sleep and I really can't be bothered to reread it.

Alfred: *grinning madly*

Arthur: *blushing slightly and holding Alfred's hand*

Fiery: I like the Epilogue as well. If you people want it today(it's really short) tell me if not I'll submit it tomorrow.

Something extra: On my roleplay website we need new members. We don't have Italy, Japan, France, or Canada and those are kind of key characters so if anyone is interested in joining please do. We have quite a few characters open for people to roleplay as. There really are no requirements besides what is mentioned in the rules which aren't very long. I'd really love it if we would have more active members.


	7. Chapter 7

**SORRY FOR FORGETTING TO SUBMIT THIS PART D8**

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><p>Epilogue<p>

A box arrived on Alfred's doorstep. The American looked around for any sign of where it could have come from. It was the same kind of chocolate as the box Britain had brought him three months ago except this one had a red ribbon wrapped around it. America picked it up and smiled warmly, attached to one of the loops of the bow was a gold band. He glanced from the box down at his doorstep and Arthur was kneeling there suddenly. A smile tugged at his lips, one sided as if hope didn't posses the strength to pull at both corners. His perfect green eyes shining in hope and desperation. His features relax when he knew Alfred was looking at him, love washing over his features. His smiled softened and reached both corners of his lips. His eyebrows dipped in less. Somewhere wind chimes clinked together. The sun came in from the window behind the American, giving him an angelic glow. The unsaid question hanging in the air.

Alfred kneeled down before him and set the box down. England looked at him slightly worried only to be practically tackled by the energetic nation. He pressed a soft, loving kiss to the others lips and whispered, "Yes." The chimes stopped clinking just in time for it to be heard and a cloud passed over the sun, only letting a few rays through that fell upon the couple. A perfect moment, gone just as planned. Even if it was a little late.


End file.
